Elizabeth Longford described it as "the most famous ball in history".[1] "The ball was certainly a brilliant affair",[2] at which "with the exception of three generals, every officer high in [Wellington's] army was there to be seen".[3]

Contents

My mother’s now famous ball took place in a large room on the ground-floor on the left of the entrance, connected with the rest of the house by an ante-room. It had been used by the coach-builder, from whom the house was hired, to put carriages in, but it was papered before we came there; and I recollect the paper—a trellis pattern with roses. … At the ball supper I sat next to the Duke of Wellington, when he gave me an original miniature of himself painted by a Belgian artist. …

I well remember the Gordon Highlanders dancing reels at the ball. My mother thought it would interest foreigners to see them,[a] which it did. I remember hearing that some of the poor men who danced in our house died at Waterloo. There was quite a crowd to look at the Scotch dancers.

While the exact order of the dances at this ball is not known, there is a comment from a contemporary critical observer about the season in Brussels:

“

Whenever they get together the severest etiquette is present. The women on entering always salute on each side of the cheek; they then set [sic] down as stiff as waxworks. They begin a ball with a perfect froideur they go on with their dangerous waltz (in which all the Englishwomen join) and finish with the gallopade, a completely indecent and violent romp.

Intelligence of the Battle of Ligny (1818) by William Heath, depicting a Prussian officer informing the Duke of Wellington that the French have crossed the border at Charleroi and that the Prussians would concentrate their army at Ligny

Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington with his intimate staff arrived some time between 11 pm. and midnight.[c] Shortly before supper, which started around 1 am.,[7] Henry Weber, an aide-de-camp to the William, Prince of Orange, arrived with a message for the Prince. The Prince handed it to Wellington, who pocketed it unopened. A short time later Wellington read the message—written at around 10 pm., it reported that Prussian forces had been forced by the French to retreat from Fleurus. As Fleurus is north-east of Charleroi this meant that the French had crossed the river Sambre (although Wellington couldn't tell from this message in what strength)— Wellington requested the Prince to return to his headquarters immediately, and then after issuing a few more orders went into supper, where he sat between Lady Frances Webster and Lady Georgiana. To his surprise the Prince of Orange returned and in a whisper informed him of another dispatch, this one sent by Baron Rebecque to the Prince's headquarters at Braine-le-Comte, and dated 10:30 pm. It informed the Prince that the French had pushed up the main Charleroi to Brussels road nearly as far as Quatre Bras.[d] After repeating to the Prince that he should return to his headquarters, Wellington continued to sit at the table and make small talk for 20 minutes more, before announcing that he would retire to bed. He rose from the supper-table and:[8]

“

whispered to ask the Duke of Richmond if he had a good map. The Duke of Richmond said he had, and took Wellington into his dressing-room. Wellington shut the door and said, "Napoleon has humbugged me, by God; he has gained twenty-four hours' march on me. … I have ordered the army to concentrate at Quatre Bras; but we shall not stop him there, and if so I must fight him there" (passing his thumb-nail over the position of Waterloo). The conversation was repeated to me by the Duke of Richmond two minutes after it occurred.

The atmosphere in the room changed when news circulated among the guests that the French were crossing the border:

“

When the duke [of Wellington] arrived, rather late, at the ball, I was dancing, but at once went up to him to ask about the rumours. He said very gravely, "Yes, they are true; we are off to-morrow." This terrible news was circulated directly, and while some of the officers hurried away, others remained at the ball, and actually had not time to change their clothes, but fought in evening costume. I went with my eldest brother (A.D.C. to the Prince of Orange) to his house, which stood in our garden, to help him to pack up, after which we returned to the ballroom, where we found some energetic and heartless young ladies still dancing. I heard afterwards that it had been said that "the Ladies Lennox were fine, and did not do the honours of the ball well". …

It was a dreadful evening, taking leave of friends and acquaintances, many never to be seen again. The Duke of Brunswick, as he took leave of me in the ante-room adjoining the ball-room, made me a civil speech as to the Brunswickers being sure to distinguish themselves after "the honour" done them by my having accompanied the Duke of Wellington to their review! I remember being quite provoked with poor Lord Hay, a dashing merry youth, full of military ardour, whom I knew very well for his delight at the idea of going into action, and of all the honours he was to gain; and the first news we had on the 16th was that he and the Duke of Brunswick were killed. …

… on our arrival at the ball we were told that the troops had orders to march at three in the morning, and that every officer must join his regiment by that time, as the French were advancing, you cannot possibly picture to yourself the dismay and consternation that appeared on every face. Those who had brothers and sons to be engaged openly gave way to their grief, as the last parting of many took place at this most terrible ball; others (and, thank Heaven, we ranked amongst that number, for in the midst of my greatest fears I still felt thankfulness was my prominent feeling that my beloved Dick was not here) who had no near relation yet felt that amongst the many friends we all had there it was impossible that all should escape, and that the next time we might hear of them they might be numbered with the dead; in fact, my dear aunt, I cannot describe to you mingled feelings; you will, however, I am sure, understand them, and I feel quite inadequate to express them. We stayed at this ball as short a time as we could, but long enough to see express after express arrive to the Duke of Wellington, to hear of aides-de-camp arriving breathless with news, and to see, what was more extraordinary than all, the Duke's equanimity a little discomposed.

We took a mournful farewell of some of our best friends, and returned home to anything but repose. The morning dawned most lovelily [sic], and before seven o'clock, we had seen 12,000 Brunswickers, Scotch and English pass before our windows, of whom one-third before the night were mingled with the dust. Mama took a farewell of Duke [of Wellington] as he passed by, but Fanny and myself, at last wearied out, had before he went, retired to bed. …

At the time of the ball no accurate record was kept of the location of the ballroom.
In 1887 a plan of the house was published by Lady De Ros (daughter of the Duchess of Richmond), provided by her brother, who were both resident in the house. It was later reprinted in "Reminiscences of Lady de Ros" by the Honourable Mrs J. R. Swinton, her daughter.[10]

The coach house, proposed by Sir William Fraser in 1888 as the likely location of the ball

Sir William Fraser examined the site and concluded that the room proposed as the ballroom by Lady de Ros was too small a space for the number of people who attended the ball.[11] A short time after his visit, he wrote a letter to The Times which was published on 25 August 1888. He reported that he had likely discovered the room and that it was not part of the principal property that the Duke of Richmond had rented on the Rue des Cendres, but was a coach house that backed onto the property and had an address in the next street, the Rue de la Blanchisserie. The room had dimensions of 120 feet (37 m) long, 54 feet (16 m) broad, and about 13 feet (4.0 m) high (the low ceiling was a case where reality impinged on one meaning of Lord Byron's artistic allusion to "that high hall").[12][13]

Research by lawyer P. Duvivier and published by Fleischman and Aerts in their 1956 book Bruxelles pendant la bataille de Waterloo put forward an alternative theory. It proposes that, unknown to Fraser, the coach house used as a ballroom had been demolished by the time of his investigations and that the building he assumed was the ballroom was not built until after 1815.[14]

Thackeray's dramatic use of the ball in Vanity Fair inspired, in turn, a number of screen depictions. One notable example comes from the 1935 RKO production Becky Sharp, the first full-length Technicolor film released after perfection of the full-color three-strip method,[29][30] which makes the Duchess of Richmond's Ball the first historical set-piece ever staged in a full-colour feature film.[31] Critics of the day were not kind to the picture itself, but the sequence in which the officers hurry to leave the ball — the red of their coats suddenly and emotionally filling the frame — was widely praised as showing great promise for the dramatic use of colour on-screen.[32]

The ball was a scene in the third act of a melodrama called In the Days of the Duke written by Charles Haddon Chambers and J. Comyns Carr, it was displayed sumptuously in the 1897 production, with a backdrop by William Harford showing the hall and staircase inside the Duchess's house.[33]

The ball was used by Sergei Bondarchuk in his 1970 film Waterloo for dramatic effect. Bondarchuk contrasted an army at peace with the impending battle and in particular as a dramatic backdrop to show how completely Napoleon managed to "humbug" Wellington.

In the novel Sharpe's Waterloo (1990), Bernard Cornwell uses the ball in a similar way to Bondarchuk, placing his character Richard Sharpe in the role of the aide who brings the catastrophic news to Wellington, but includes a sub-plot where Sharpe brawls with Lord John Rossendale, Sharpe's wife's lover and a man who owes Sharpe money.

A fictional account is given of the Duchess of Richmond's ball in The Campaigners, Volume 14 of The Morland Dynasty, a series of historical novels by author Cynthia Harrod-Eagles. Some of the fictional Morland family and other characters attend the ball and the events that unfold are seen and experienced through their eyes.

The ball serves as the backdrop for the first chapter of Julian Fellowes's 2016 novel, Belgravia. The chapter is titled, "Dancing into Battle," and portrays a potential mésalliance that is avoided the next day by a battlefield fatality at Quatre Bras. Fellowes incorporates into his book actual occurrences at the ball, and inserts a fictional protagonist, James Trenchard, into the famous private conversation between the Duke of Richmond and the Duke of Wellington. This actual conversation prompts a premature end of the ball, and in the resulting confusion, there is a misunderstanding that Fellowes plays with throughout the remainder of the book.

Descendants of guests at the original ball, participating in the Bicentennial Ball in 2015

On 15 June 1965 the British Ambassador in Brussels held a ball to commemorate the 150th anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo and the Duchess of Richmond's ball. 540 guests attended the function of whom the majority were Belgians.[34] This commemoration ball has now become an annual event with the money raised going to support several charities.[35]

^Charlotte, Duchess of Richmond, was herself a Gordon: The eldest daughter of Alexander, Duke of Gordon and Jane, the daughter of Sir William Maxwell, 3rd Baronet of Monreith.

^Due to the French Revolutionary Wars and the Napoleonic Wars British society had been cut off from the fashions in the rest of Europe and with the end of hostilities in 1814, those who ventured to visit the European Continent were keen to assimilate the latest continental fashions including the new dances (if only not to appear staid and old-fashioned in continental society).[5] Not everyone in Britain approved, and after the waltz was danced at the Prince Regent's court the following year The Times thundered in an editorial about "this obscene display" and warned "every parent against exposing their daughter to so fatal a contagion".[6]

^This second dispatch provided some additional vital information for Wellington. The first was that as Fleurus was on a different main road out of Charleroi from that of Quatre Bras, this meant the French must have crossed the river Sambre in force. Secondly although Charleroi and Fleurus were picketed by the Prussians, the area directly south of Quatre Bras was picketed by the Anglo-allies and this meant that units of his own command were now head-to-head with the French.

^"In the course of the evening the duke asked my father for a map of the country and went into his study, which was on the same floor as the ball-room, to look at it. He put his finger on Waterloo, saying the battle would be fought there. My father marked the spot with his pencil, but alas! That map was lost or stolen for it never returned from Canada with his other possessions" (Dowager Lady De Ros 2005).

^"The following list of the invited guests was given by my mother to Lord Verulam, who sent me a copy of it. Several of the officers were not present, being on duty" — Georgiana, Dowager Lady De Ros (Swinton 1893, pp. 124–132).

^A number of entries have been adjusted using the list provided by the Royal Armouries 2015. The adjustments includes assigning ranks and regiments to those present as well as casualties.

Bradford, Isabella (15 June 2014). "The Duchess of Richmond's Ball, 1815". — Commenting on the paintings "First off, of course, the dresses and hairstyles of the women are much more fashionable for the 1860s-70s than 1815. The grandly appointed settings are at odds with Lady de Ros's description of the ball taking place …"